


Practice

by DanteBeatrice77



Series: Pyrite Universe [2]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Elena's a baby, F/F, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26566549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanteBeatrice77/pseuds/DanteBeatrice77
Summary: Set five years before the beginning of Pyrite. Jane and Maura are adjusting to parenthood when an unexpected visitor shows up on their doorstep.
Relationships: Maura Isles/Jane Rizzoli
Series: Pyrite Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1900306
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68





	Practice

The smell of roasting chicken and vegetables wafted through the house after an entire day of the stench of deco at work, but it did little to calm Maura as she bustled through the kitchen. Elena bounced on her hip, all of a very precocious four months old, tiny hands pulling at her honey hair as Maura shifted her weight and put several glasses from the drying rack into the cupboard.

Maura squinted while Elena blew raspberries by her head, trying and failing to convince herself that so much saliva in her eye wasn’t _so_ bad. She kissed the baby’s nose to make her stop, but no such luck was had.

When the doorbell rang, however, Elena went quiet and they both turned toward the sound. “Oh thank God,” Maura sighed as she turned and wrapped both arms around her daughter’s behind on her hip, “ _Mamma’s_ probably home. Shall we go see her?”

Maura hustled to the door, speaking as she opened. “Finally. I have had to pee since I started dinner but I’ve been -” It was not _Mamma_ on the other side of the door, however, standing in the courtyard, waiting to be let in. It was a man. A tall, lithe, scruffy Australian man whose smile always pulled Maura’s lips into its mirror image. He did so now. “Ian,” she said on the heels of a sigh, her eyes dark as they met his, her body finally stilling.

He moved from leaning on the doorstep to standing with his hands crossed in front of his hips at the sight of Elena. He moved his gaze from her chubby cheeks and shock of black hair back to Maura’s sharp, elegant features. He wanted to go to her; he could see in how she held the baby in her arms that she wanted to go to him too. “Well, I can take her for a few minutes if you still need to go.”

This broke Maura from her connection with him. The world around her started to come back into focus - the smell of dinner cooking, the feel of Elena kicking playfully against her body, the chill of the early fall air after dark. Her bladder pulsed. “Oh thank you, yes. It’s dire,” she winked as she handed Elena over to him, and then kissed him softly on the cheek. His arm felt warm under her hand when she stroked a thumb over his jacket. “She has a teething ring on the coffee table. If you sit on the couch with her she’ll chew indefinitely,” she called out to him as she walked back toward the hall restroom.

Ian smiled widely at Elena and held her close to his chest. “Ouch, teething already? No fun, little one,” he said quietly to her. “What’s her name?” He then shouted to Maura, who opened the door to the bathroom. 

_“Elena_ ,” said Maura in the Italian accent she used every time she said her baby’s name, “ _Elena Giuliana._ ” With that, she shut the door behind her. 

Ian heard the overhead fan go on and he closed the front door. He stood still for a moment, with the baby in his arms grabbing at his stubble, unsure of how to proceed. “And who does Mommy share you with, huh? This hair is something else, but you have her eyes,” he stated to her simply, and she laughed, as though she understood. Her green eyes twinkled. Then she shrieked happily. Ian’s shoulders jumped. “Quite the pair of lungs, Elena,” he continued as he walked over to the couch and sat down with her. He marveled at her vocal play as she continued to babble. He had delivered many babies during his practice in Africa, but rarely got to see those babies after they left the clinic, or after he left their homes. By the time any of them turned four months, he would be long gone to the next village or town. 

He handed her the teething ring Maura had pointed out and then bounced her on his knee. “Now, Elena,” he started again, “the best thing for us to do would be to put a little bit of whiskey on those gums.” His words lilted over her matter-of-factly, as though he was explaining stocks and bonds to her. “But… I don’t think your mother would be very-”

“God Maura, whatever dinner is it smells good,” The front doorknob turned again and a voice boomed into the foyer as it opened. It slammed shut and Jane Rizzoli walked into the room, all boot clacks and wild hair and gun and badge. She froze when she turned and saw Ian there. He saw her finger twitch almost imperceptibly closer to her gun, wouldn’t have noticed it if he was not also on high alert. “I see you’ve met Elena,” she said simply, lips pulled back into a ghost of a smile, but her eyes stayed narrow and dark. 

“Jane,” Ian stood up then, still holding the baby, holding out his hand to her. “It’s been awhile. How’s life?”

Jane took his hand and held onto it. “Better since I last saw you,” she said. “It’s been two, almost three years.”

“Has it? I’m moving about so much that I hardly notice the time anymore. Three years is too many,” he said. Elena wriggled against him as the two adults stood talking.

At that moment, Maura returned from the bathroom. “Oh good, you’re home. Ian dropped in,” she said, moving up to Jane, kissing her on the cheek, too. Jane bent a little to accept the gesture but kept her eyes on Ian.

“I can see that,” she replied. She continued to stand in front of him, hips wide and stance open. When she swallowed, her voice box jumped. Ian thought that even that looked dangerous, unbridled against her tan neck.

Maura rolled her eyes and then turned to Ian. She smiled at the sight of him with her daughter in tow. “She likes you,” Maura said, “but you’re going to want to turn her over to Jane. She’ll start to fuss if she doesn’t get to be held by her. Wine?” Maura then walked around the kitchen island and pulled down three glasses. 

As if on cue, Elena hiccupped and then let out a wail so piercing that Ian jumped towards Jane. He handed her over immediately, and she continued to cry until Jane bounced her in a steady, hearty rhythm. “She’s quite expressive,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and turning his body towards Maura.

“Quite,” Jane said. It was her turn to roll her eyes. Elena hiccupped again and then slumped against Jane’s chest.

“Don’t take it personally,” Maura chuckled. She poured from a bottle of red, “she does it to me too. Whenever Jane walks into the room, she demands her attention.” 

Jane smiled her first genuine, open mouthed smile of the night at this. “She eat?” She asked Maura.

“No, but there’s a bottle warming in her room,” Maura popped a piece of carrot in her mouth still on the cutting board and pointed upstairs. 

Ian watched the two of them ease into parenting as if it were all so simple, his brain starting to dust off the cobwebs and turn on the lights. _Elena’s a Rizzoli_ , he thought. The thought itself sounded so fluid and natural to him he didn’t know why it didn’t occur to him earlier. He only wondered which Rizzoli she belonged to.

Jane took Maura’s marching orders good naturedly. She started the trek toward the stairs, one hand free, one hand wrapped around Elena’s chubby legs, but then she stopped. She turned around and strode toward Maura in the kitchen. She leaned forward and kissed her, mouth open, with force and speed. Maura jolted against her, but then fell into it.

_Ah, of course,_ thought Ian. He turned his face away as Maura and Jane kissed, but the moment was over as soon as it started. Jane brushed past him on the way to the stairs. 

Maura ran her teeth over her bottom lip and smoothed barely-there lines in her dress. Her heels smacked against the kitchen tile in a light feminine contrast to Jane’s previous stomp. She brought a glass to Ian and leaned against the lip of the countertop. “Excuse Jane, please. She is possessive.”

Ian closed his eyes and shook his head as he chuckled. “Maybe. But kind, too.” He said.

Maura blinked a few times, studying him. “What do you mean?”

“If you were my wife and a man I knew you had slept with was in your house without me, I don’t think I would be willing to leave you two alone to talk,” He shrugged and accepted the wine. He took a small sip. “A lot has happened since I’ve been here, Maura.”

“A lot of time has passed since you’ve been here, Ian,” she responded with a shrug of her own. She watched him again, moved closer and put a hand over his on the island. 

“A petty part of me thinks that it should be me here with you,” He stopped smiling and looked at her severely, as though he willed all of his intention onto her. He stared at her lips, as if he willed them to open and drink up his sincerity. 

Maura drank wine instead. “It could have been you here with me. I loved you,” she said, and it echoed against flashes of the future in the both of their minds. 

“Loved me, huh?” He leaned against the refrigerator then and grinned boyishly. He wagged his eyebrows when Maura’s cheeks turned pink.

“I love you, Ian. Some part of me always will love you,” she said. No qualifications, nothing further.

“But I took too long,” he said. His petty side came out to play then, and he whined it. He looked down at his shoes.

“No, I would have waited forever if nothing better came along,” Maura’s words started off biting, but she eased off the gas when she saw Ian’s shoulders tense with defense, “it’s hard to find better than what we have. Had.”

“So did you?” He looked back up after she applied some balm to his pride.

She strode over to the oven to turn on the light. The chicken looked done, so she grabbed her meat thermometer and checked it. _Perfect 165._ “Did I what?”

“Find something better?” He took a bigger gulp this time, and then helped her grab the dish from the oven. The smell of rosemary and balsamic vinegar hit him low in his gut, and he felt as though he were robbing someone else’s comfort as the moment washed over him.

“Thank you. Do you want the truth?” Maura asked as she put a dish towel on the counter and motioned for him to place it there.

“It’s all I ever gave you,” he countered, and Maura could hear something like contrition in Ian’s voice. Perhaps mixed with a little bit of indignation.

“Yes, I did,” she said. Ian opened his mouth to speak but she grabbed onto him then, holding him as she had done so many times before, with her head on his chest to seek out his heartbeat. “Jane loves me.”

“I love you too, you know,” Ian responded. He rubbed her shoulders with his burly hand.

Maura felt the buzz of his words against her head, and a little bit in her heart. She stepped back to look him in the eye. “Allow me to elaborate.”

“Alright.”

“Jane loves me enough to put me first.”

“But I-”

“No, let me finish. Jane loves me so much that she makes time for me,” said Maura. And there was the meat of it. The crux of their downfall. _Jane makes time for me. Jane sees me as the most important thing she could do._

Ian pulled his hands away from her and nodded. He broke their embrace slowly, but not before Maura could kiss the spot on his shirt where her ear had been. “You know the nature of what I do, Maura. You know it’s not something we could share.”

Maura felt anger flaring up and licking the inside of her ribs at his age-old argument. She took a deep breath and let it go. “Maybe you’re right. And maybe that was always the problem. But I respect what you do.”

Ian swallowed.

“What’re you in town for?” Jane’s voice clapped through their bubble like thunder as she traipsed over the last few stairs of the staircase. 

Maura turned to her and smiled, the interruption neither welcome nor despised. She held out her hand for Jane’s gun and badge and locked them in the drawer of the table behind the couch when they were given to her. 

“Uh, Maura,” said Ian. Maura’s ears felt hot with blood as he spoke. “And supplies,” he finished, throwing a look Maura’s way, asking silently if that was something she would still do.

Jane bristled, then shook her shoulders. “Well, if Maura’s ok with it, stay for dinner then. It must be a long flight to Boston from wherever you started.”

“Switzerland this time, actually. Maura?” Ian kept his eyes on her.

“Of course. I was just about to ask you to stay,” Maura said. Jane busied herself with grabbing three plates and some silverware. 

“Then I’d love to, thank you,” he nodded in acquiescence. None of the adults spoke for a long while, until Jane had set the table and Maura had served them all.

“‘S good Maura, thanks,” Jane smiled through a mouthful of vegetables and patted her wife’s hand. Maura smiled in return.

Ian scoffed. “Oh you two. Please don’t be so banal on my account,” He made a “blegh” sound and got up to grab the bottle of wine from the counter. Jane looked up at him, dark and puzzled in response, and Maura chuckled. There was the real Ian again, charming and brusque. “I want to know everything. How long have you been married?”

Jane smirked. “What if I don’t want you to know everything?”

“Jane,” Maura chided, but Ian waved it away. He poured the three of them another drink.

“No it’s ok. That’s fair. I’m really only asking because I’m… invested in Maura’s happiness. But I’d understand either way, I suppose,” he replied.

“About a year,” said Jane, apparently satisfied with his answer. 

His eyes lit up as he looked at her and then back to Maura. That boyishness returned. “A shotgun wedding?”

Maura turned red and Jane rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, because it’s so easy for me to accidentally get Maura pregnant,” Jane shot back. 

If Maura didn’t say something, she was going to turn purple. “Jane,” she admonished again. “I wanted a baby. We wanted a baby together. We decided to do that, and then Jane had a crisis of conscience-”

“Catholic guilt, actually,” Jane cut in. 

“Ooh, know it well,” Ian commiserated, and winked at her. 

“Well I don’t,” Maura added, suddenly wondering if she had a type, “but Jane wanted us to be legally married before the baby came. So, we were married a month later.”

“Hmm,” Ian stroked his chin, “did everyone know you were already pregnant?”

It was Jane’s turn to blush. “No.”

Ian guffawed then. “I cannot imagine Mrs. Rizzoli being pleased at this.”

Jane shoved more food into her mouth. “She got over it.”

“And Elena, she’s-”

“Biologically Jane’s,” Maura answered, knowing what he meant before he finished. She read him and his surprise. “I carried her. We made the decision because of the nature of Jane’s work.”

“But her eyes are, Jesus Maura. They’re your eyes,” Ian sat back in his chair, amazed.

“We got lucky,” Maura said as she shrugged. 

He waved her off with his hand again. “Catholics don’t believe in luck, do we Jane?”

They shared a rare conspiratory look. “Sure don’t,” she said back. 

“Well, then, as the only serious person of science in this room, I can say with certainty it was luck. Genetic roulette,” Maura said. Her eyes twinkled with the light above the dining room table, and she got a laugh out of both Ian and Jane. 

They spoke of menial things then, easily, wine-lubricated, for another forty-five minutes. Plates were cleared and glasses were filled a third time when Ian brought the conversation around to Jane and Maura again. “Can I ask you both something personal? Jane feel free to shoot me if I step on toes.”

Jane nodded to the writing desk in the living room. “I would but the gun’s all the way over there.”

She sounded serious for a moment, so Ian smiled awkwardly before continuing. “How long after I left last did you two…?”

Maura sat up straighter. When Jane didn’t answer, she spoke. “What? Get together?”

“Yeah. Or, were you when I came to town?”

Jane answered this time. “Absolutely not. You think things would have gone down the way they did if we were? You were already lucky I didn’t call Interpol.” She started to growl, the old wound of seeing Maura so broken opening again. 

“A few months later,” Maura answered his original question, hoping to bring them away from the precipice.

However, Ian had never been one to shy away from the leap. “Will you call them now? I’m here for the same thing.”

Jane scoffed at his audacity. She ran her hand through her black hair then moved it back into her other hand, elbows up on the table. “If Maura asks me not to, I won’t. If you don’t try anything while you’re here, I won’t.”

It touched Ian, and it touched Maura, to hear Jane say that. “Thank you, Detective,” Ian nodded to Jane. 

“Yes, Detective,” said Maura, light still playing against her young face. “That’s… that’s very kind of you. I know how conflicted it makes you feel.”

Jane wiggled her nose and sniffed. “I’d like to put forward a few conditions.”

“What, more than don’t sleep with Maura?” Ian chuckled, turning so that his chest opened to her.

Jane leaned in closer as well. “Oh no. If you so much as even look at Maura the wrong way there will be hell to pay. My other conditions are much more practical, I think.” She stole a glance at Maura then, who smirked at her. Attraction burgeoned between them. Maura scooted closer.

“Shoot,” Ian replied. He chose to ignore the air being sucked out of the room. 

“You can spend however much money you want on supplies, or whatever it is you need,” Jane said, turning to Maura more fully. “It’s not my money so I can’t stop you, Maura. But please do not run anything through the Chief Medical Examiner’s Office. You could get fired. You could go to jail.”

Maura nodded, her arousal growing. “That was previously reckless of me. You’re right to ask that.”

“Also,” said Jane, turning back to Ian, “don’t store them here. In my house. I don’t care if you get a storage unit or go to a friend’s place or a hotel, or whatever, but if Interpol comes to Boston wanting to knock down front doors, it better not be mine. I have a baby and a wife sleeping up there every night.” She pointed to the hallway on the second floor. 

Maura swallowed at the protectiveness in Jane’s voice. She crossed her legs when she thought about the way Jane lengthened her back and hardened her biceps as she laid out this last condition. She looked over at Ian, who complemented Jane, spine crouched and back, arms loose and open. Dominated by her, overcome in that moment by the truth of what Maura had said to him earlier. _Jane loves me enough to put me first_. 

“That can be arranged easily,” he said, smiling. He emptied his wine glass and pulled his lips back, staring into the cup for fear of looking at either of the women at the table with him.

“I will take tomorrow off, to help you,” Maura offered then, waiting until he looked up at her to smile and place her hand on his wrist. She patted it, and it felt decidedly unsexual compared to the gaze he watched her share with Jane moments before. 

“I’d appreciate that, Maura.”

Maura nodded. “You can spend the day with _Elena Giuliana_ and I,” she said, and Ian brightened at the thought of spending the day with Maura’s baby, young, vibrant, curious. Like Maura had been when they were together.

“It sounds like a plan. Well,” Ian made a show of looking at his watch as he spoke and stood, “it’s getting late, and I better be off if I want to find a decent hotel room.”

Maura looked at him and then at his duffel bag in the foyer. “You’re not staying here?”

Ian turned his head to her, confused. “Well, I had originally planned on it, but that hardly seems like a good idea now, does it?” He looked back at Jane, who stiffened, but didn’t say anything.

“No, that’s nonsense. Stay here. Hotels in Beacon Hill are expensive, and I know that what money you’ve brought you need,” Maura stood as well, and grabbed his wine glass. She rinsed it and her own in the sink before putting them in the dishwasher, “the guest room between ours and Elena’s is open. I even changed the sheets recently.”

“Maura, I don’t-” Ian started.

“Maura wants you to,” Jane finally piped up. She pulled up her black t- shirt to untuck it from her pants and walked over to the kitchen, half-full glass in hand. “You really don’t have the money to afford the local hotels,” she winked at him and smiled. “ _I_ don’t have the money to afford the local hotels.”

Ian felt like he was being set up and taken care of at the same time. For several moments, he contemplated which feeling to fall into. The money argument made him choose the latter. “Maybe you’re right. If you don’t mind, Jane, I’ll stay.”

“Not my decision,” Jane said, shrugging. “Maura says you can stay, you can stay. Towels are in the hall closet if you need a shower.”

The hospitality touched Ian genuinely. “You really have no idea how good a shower sounds right now. With running, hot water. In fact, I’ll leave you to it and do that now. Good night,” he grabbed his bag. 

Jane nodded, and Maura gave him a soft smile. She waited until he had trotted up the stairs and out of sight before sliding up close to Jane. “Long day?” her question curled up in inflection like her brow; she smirked and pulled the wine from Jane’s hand, placing it on the counter and stepping into her arms.

“Yeah, got ten times longer when I stepped through the door,” Jane replied. She ran her hands all long Maura’s shoulders, her back, the curve of her behind.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was coming,” Maura said, and it was the truth. The roaming hands on her body made her lightheaded and bold. She opened her legs up wider so that Jane could pull them even closer together. 

“You never do,” Jane echoed Maura’s words from several years before. 

“I never do,” Maura repeated.

“Yeah well, imagine my surprise when I walk in and the love of your life is holding _my_ baby on _my_ couch,” Jane pouted.

“You walked in and saw yourself holding Elena? Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Maura shot back, smiling wickedly. Jane snorted and smiled, too. Maura squeezed her tightly then. With her cheek smashed against Jane’s clavicle, her voice sounded soft and distorted. “Imagine my surprise when the doorbell rings and it’s Ian. I handed him Elena because I expected to be handing her to you, because I had to pee so badly. It was literal minutes between that and you coming home.”

“Ok, ok,” Jane said, shrugging. It sounded plausible enough, but her gut still churned. She tried to run from the feeling. “Work wasn’t too bad, though. A little slow. Stayed a little late to catch up on paperwork.”

“Oh good. Jane?” Maura pulled her head back and craned her neck to look Jane in the face. Her eyelids hooded over most of her green irises and she smirked. 

“Yeah babe,” Jane answered easily, openly. She thought she should have braced for what was coming next, but Maura’s body felt too good against hers.

“I want you to penetrate me tonight,” Maura said, sighing and squeezing Jane again.

Jane sputtered and coughed. “Maura! Do you have to be so… clinical?”

“I’m a clinician,” Maura blinked against her wife’s chest as she replied, as though it were obvious. “Will you?”

“Of- of course,” Jane recovered. Somewhat. “But why? Because your dick appointment is here and you can’t have it?”

Maura didn’t break their embrace and shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe. I’m sure part of my brain can’t help but associate him with sex. But it’s also been two weeks. And I suppose I want to replace all those memories of him with memories of you and I.”

Jane liked this. “Mmm,” she grunted. “Sounds nice.”

Maura smiled and shook her head. “It sounds sexy. Do you know why sex with you is hotter than sex with Ian ever was?”

Jane blushed scarlet and cleared her throat. The resulting voice was a hoarse burr. “Do tell.”

“Because when I wake up the morning after, you’re always sleeping right next to me,” Maura answered simply. Jane melted and touched their foreheads together. Maura slipped her hands from Jane’s back to scratch lightly at the nape of her neck.

“I don’t wanna be anywhere else, Maura,” Jane said. She breathed out and her breath settled against Maura’s skin. “You can trust that I’m not going to go anywhere else.”

“Then can _you_ trust _me_?” Maura asked. She moved her hands up to grasp the sides of Jane’s head, weaving fingers through Jane’s hair, rubbing her thumbs across Jane’s temples back and forth. “Trust that I’m not going to run off with Ian just because he showed up on my doorstep.”

“Do you still love him?” asked Jane. Maura rounded her lips in a slack little “o”. This must have been the question she had wanted to ask all night. 

“Yes. Of course,” Maura stated truthfully. Jane stiffened and made to pull away, but Maura continued. “Part of me will always love him. But give me credit, Jane. I’m capable of holding both feelings at once. I can love a person that I have been in love with before and I can be completely devoted to you. I love him, but that’s not the love I’m cultivating. It’s stagnant - it’s there and it may not die, but it’s not growing. I’m not _in love_ with him anymore. My love for you is alive and it… it consumes me. It consumes the both of us. It’s my number one priority,” she said. When Jane became supple in her hands again, she asked, “do you believe me?”

“Yeah,” said Jane. They stood there for several moments, Maura rubbing her wife’s temples still and Jane lightly pawing at the small of Maura’s back. “And I want to penetrate you,” Jane confessed in a rush of heated air, almost in a whisper, almost in a petulant whine. Her foot stamped.

Maura laughed instantly and openly. Jane caught the laugh and her own chuckle bubbled out of her. “Well. Usually it’s _you_ who gets _me_ to say naughty things,” said Maura, hands on strong shoulders now.

Jane rolled her eyes, but when they came back around to meet Maura’s, they were hot, dark, needy. “Har har,” she growled, unamused. “I’ll say whatever you want me to say to get you upstairs, Maura.”

“You don’t have to say any more,” Maura replied, placing a finger on Jane’s lips. “Let’s just go.”

* * *

Maura gasped when Jane plunged into her again, after a tease of shallow, quick thrusts. She wanted to shriek, but Jane put the side of her hand between Maura’s teeth just in time to catch it. Maura bit down. _Hard_. The bedclothes around them twisted in disarray and sweat. 

“We don’t need to rub it in,” Jane panted as she switched her hips from a piston to a slow, deep grind. It was steady and she used all her musculature from her knees to her lower abdominals to drive Maura wild.

“Hypocrite,” was all that Maura could choke out before she moaned again, deep throated. She grabbed the headboard behind her that had rattled against the wall just moments before like gunfire, as if to say _you want him to hear this_. Now it pounded like a bass drum and Maura’s breasts bounced in time with it. Jane bent down even lower, touching her entire body to Maura’s through sweat and quiet whimpers, and attempting to kiss the damp hair stuck to Maura’s temple.

But, for Maura, the closeness was _too_ heady, the sliding of their skin together _too_ sweet, the way that Jane’s belly stayed put on hers and the way that she felt every intake of breath so close to every thrust inside of her was _too_ good. Maura had to break the trance somehow or she was going to melt into the bed. She twisted her torso, contorted halfway so that Jane’s abdomen rested on her side, and she reached over with her right arm to grab more tightly onto the headboard above them.

“Uh uh,” said Jane, shaking her head. “Don’t run from it, this is what you wanted.” She grabbed Maura’s arm and yanked her back.

They instantly shared breath and Maura sobbed into Jane’s mouth. “Too…” she tried, then yelped, then tried again. “Too deep. I can’t… it’s too, god, too much.”

Maybe when they were younger, when they were earlier in their love, Jane would have pulled back, asked Maura what was wrong, cooed to her that it would be alright, promised her they could slow down. And that would have unequivocally been the wrong thing to do, so Jane did the right thing. She wrapped one arm around Maura and pressed the small of her back, and with the other hand she grabbed Maura’s right hip. She adjusted, kept her thrusts deep and open, and then sped up. “Push up on it, baby. I got you,” she said as they inched up the bed with Maura’s gasps of resistance. 

There was no escape.

Maura tried one last time, pulling out her biggest gun, hoping for mercy. “It’s too good, Jane, _fuck_ , it’s too good. I’m not going to last,” she cursed, and she felt Jane’s blood run hot all over her at the sound. She heard Jane’s hips getting sloppier with desire, she felt what was inside of her get heavier and the push get harder. It would seem that her words had the opposite effect of what she had intended.

“Who cares? We can do this all night, Maura. _I_ can do this all night,” Jane spoke on wisps of shotgun breath, and Maura knew that mercy was the last thing on Jane’s mind. So, she gave in, wrapped her limbs around her wife’s shoulders and hips, and didn’t attempt to hide her moans.

This was nearly Jane’s undoing. Maura did as she was asked and pushed up into Jane, trying like hell to keep her inside before each time she pulled out, and Jane groaned at the feeling of resistance against her. She cried out when she felt Maura’s teeth bite down on her shoulder. “ _Shit_ , Maura. I’m-”

“Do it,” Maura ordered, before Jane could finish her sentence, “do it. Just bring me with you,” she used her left arm to wipe Jane’s hair away from her forehead, running a thumb over her eyebrow to keep the sweat there from running into Jane’s eyes. The affection, the tenderness of the moment drove Jane’s growl into a higher and higher pitch until she sobbed. Maura splayed her knees away from Jane’s torso where they had been wrapped tight, and when she opened her legs, she heard the two of them swimming in wetness together. It would be seconds now, and all that mattered was how they finished. Jane ran a hand along the back of Maura’s right thigh and slid that leg over her shoulder, pushing up with her palms on the mattress and bringing her torso high above Maura. She wound her hips again, in the most irreligious dance she knew. 

Maura threw her head back into the pillow so hard she felt the mattress through it, but she didn’t care. She dug her calf into Jane’s neck as Jane cried out in release and Maura felt herself get wetter and then her world go black. She didn’t realize Jane pulled away and laid next to her until much later.

“Sometimes I feel like we’re a cheat code,” said Jane finally, out of breath still, sheet barely covering where she had worn the harness just minutes previously. Her legs kept time with the slowing of her heartbeat; she swayed them back and forth just enough to try and bring feeling back to them.

Maura raised her eyebrow in confusion but didn’t open her eyes. “What is that?”

“You know, like in a video game. You put in the cheat code and it makes it easy to beat the game,” Jane replied. She ran a hand over her face with vigor, willing sleep away.

Maura finally turned to look at her and settled to lay on her side. “Why are you talking about video games right now?” She didn’t have the willpower to reason it through.

“What I meant is that we have no business being this good at it. Especially as new parents,” Jane huffed, shooting a glance Maura’s way and then looking back to the ceiling.

“Being parents has nothing to do with sexual prowess,” Maura chuckled. “I feel it has more to do with your athletic ability.”

“So athletes are good at it?” Jane laughed, incredulous.

“No, specifically _your_ athletic ability. Your athletic ability and your…” Maura paused as she spun her hand around to think of the word, “competitiveness.”

“Excuse me?” it was Jane’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“It’s good,” Maura assured her, “you don’t like to lose. Especially to people who have slept with me before. It makes you attentive, passionate. Oh please don’t-” She yelped when Jane swung back over her and began kissing her way down Maura’s belly, spreading her knees open again. 

“Not yet?” Jane asked against Maura’s navel.

“Not yet,” replied Maura, who sighed when Jane relented and simply laid between her legs instead. She ran fingers through wild black hair until she felt Jane’s breath become even with sleep, shoulders rising and falling right at the bend of her hips.

* * *

Jane awoke to Elena crying. It startled her out of a deep sleep and she squeezed her eyes shut to chase away the dizziness from getting up too fast. Somehow in the night, she and Maura had migrated to their respective sides of the bed, and she looked over to see Maura stirring as well. “I got it, go back to sleep,” Jane said gruffly as she leaned over to kiss Maura’s head. The kiss smacked loudly against the quiet of their bedroom, and Elena sounded far away, sleepy, once Jane had regained enough consciousness.

“I pumped enough for the next two feedings,” Maura mumbled before turning over to settle back into bed. “There are a couple of bottles in her fridge.”

“Yup,” Jane grunted as she threw on some running shorts and an old baggy white tee. She shoved the dresser drawers shut and stumbled down the hall to Elena’s room. The baby cried and squirmed, and Jane’s heart contracted. The resulting blood felt so warm and flowery inside of her. 

“Hey _bedda,_ Mamma’s here. I got you,” she murmured into Elena’s hair when she picked her up, bouncing her in that same rhythm from earlier in the evening. The crying lessened but didn’t stop. “Mom says you’re growing, that’s why you’re not sleeping so good anymore. You hungry?” Jane asked as she danced them over to the mini fridge by the changing table. She popped it open with her foot and grabbed one of the bottles Maura was talking about with her free hand. She placed it in the bottle warmer and tried to blink more sleep away. “T-minus three minutes, kiddo,” she said, more to comfort herself than Elena.

The timer went off, and Elena took to the bottle ravenously. Jane chuckled at the way she sought it out, sat them both in the rocking chair by the crib, more than happy to be Bottle Holder for the little Rizzoli growing heavier by the minute in her arms. Soon after, with the baby fed and changed, and fallen asleep again, Jane pulled the door nearly closed and then shuffled down the stairs. All the talk of eating had flared her hunger and 2 AM was as good a time as any to rummage, she figured.

She threw open the freezer, found a pint of double fudge ice cream, and yanked a spoon from the silverware drawer. She moaned with her first bite and tapped the spoon against the counter in appreciation. “God that’s good,” she whispered to herself.

“I bet you worked up quite an appetite,” Ian’s voice, one she again did not expect, chided her as he too came down the stairs in pajamas and his bare feet. He held a laptop and a pair of reading glasses in his hands, however. 

Jane blushed, but the lack of light obscured it. He switched on the lamp at the writing desk and she watched him. She scrutinized how comfortable he felt in her home. “Sorry ‘bout that,” she lied. She took another bite of ice cream. 

“Don’t be,” he laughed, genuinely and openly. “The time difference gets me every time. The only reason I was awake at all is because I have such awful jet lag the first night I get here.” He walked over to the counter to make conversation.

“Mmm,” Jane hummed. She pulled out another spoon and handed it to him. “Maura thinks this is my Ma’s ice cream. I actually buy it from a high school friend who has her own shop.”

“Oh God,” Ian groaned as he took his first bite. “Your secret’s safe with me. Who’s this friend? That should be illegal.” He pointed to the pint with his spoon.

“Better than sex, right?” Jane wagged her eyebrows, then immediately regretted it when she saw his face light up.

“I don’t know about better than the sex you’re having but…” Ian laughed before he could get the rest out.

“Hey, watch it,” Jane attempted assertion through embarrassment. She only somewhat succeeded.

Ian threw up his hands, ever the gentleman anyway. “You’re right, not my business.” He changed the subject. “I try the legal way, you know. When I’m here,” he pointed to his Macbook, “apply to nonprofits, even lobbied Congress a few times. It just takes too long, and too many times I hear no.”

“I get it,” said Jane. “Just because I’m a cop doesn’t mean I’m naive to how the world works. Marginalized people get the shaft. We’re lucky we have people like you around while government workers like me continue to muck things up.”

Ian shrugged. “I just don’t want you to think I’m gallivanting around, choosing a life of crime because it suits me,” he said. “I wish there were a way to help these people on the up and up. I want you to feel like you’re doing the right thing when you’re looking the other way.”

Jane offered him one more spoonful of ice cream and then put the lid on. “You don’t really know how this works, do you? The less we talk about it the better. Aren’t you Catholic?”

“I am,” Ian laughed again. “I guess I’ve forgotten.”

“I’m going back to bed because I have work in the morning. You need these lights on?” Jane asked as she pointed to the lamps and overhead light above the table. Ian nodded, so she turned and went back up to her own bedroom.

* * *

“So what exactly does helping Ian with arrangements this morning entail?” Jane asked as she sipped from her coffee mug. She put her bare foot on Elena’s jumper and bounced it. Elena shrieked on high and low pitches as she tapped her mother’s toes with a toy. 

Maura walked around them, naked and hair freshly styled, makeup done, on her way from the bathroom to their dresser. She smiled at Jane, who was fully dressed in her work suit and badge, no socks and one foot so close to their baby’s face. “It means he and I will go into the South End and pick up a stock of medical supplies from my connection. He has a motel that he’s paid cash for just outside the city, and we will store them there. I don’t ask what he does after that, Jane.”

Jane narrowed her gaze as she watched Maura put on underwear and a matching bra. “You pay cash for the supplies?”

Maura disappeared into their closet. “Of course, my love,” she poked her head back out and faked a scowl. “I’m not _that_ oblivious, you know.” She reappeared in a teal blouse and black jeans, shrugging a blazer over her shoulders and carrying a pair of pumps in her left hand. 

“I’m just worried that you’re going to get made, _you know_ ,” Jane sipped again, bristling in excitement, old but no less potent, when Maura stood in between her legs. 

Maura put a hand on Jane’s shoulder as she steadied herself to put one shoe on, then the other. She rolled her eyes. “I never go in, Jane. I wait a block away until Ian calls me to drive over and pick things up from the curb.”

“I still don’t like it, but I’m not gonna tell you you shouldn’t,” Jane said. She ran a reverent hand from Maura’s hip down her thigh. “Today I was supposed to get the tox results on the Hacknell case.”

“Ask Susie,” Maura reasoned. She pulled a clean pair of socks from the top drawer of Jane’s dresser and threw them on the bed. “She is more than qualified to go over the results with you.”

“But I don’t want to listen to Susie talk about tox results. I wanna listen to you do it,” said Jane, frowning, eyes shining.

Maura rolled her eyes again. “You find toxicology boring when I talk about it, too. You’re just pouting because I am spending the day with Ian and not with you.” 

Jane stood at the challenge, stepping aside from Elena to invade Maura’s space. “You’re right. And I think I’m allowed, Maura.”

Maura watched Jane’s lips curl as they spoke and she nipped at them, nearly Jane’s height given her shoes and Jane’s lack thereof. “I love you. Join Elena and me in the kitchen when you’re done getting ready.”

Jane sighed and nodded. Maura picked up the baby, balanced her on her hip, and then walked down the stairs.

When she got there, Ian was already up, at the kitchen table, running through a spreadsheet on his computer. Maura greeted him. “Good morning,” she said, “you’re up quite early.”

“Didn’t really sleep,” he responded. “You look beautiful this morning.”

In another time, Maura would have gone to him, kissed him, comforted him, told him to go back to bed. Presently, she handed him her baby and patted his shoulder. “Thank you. Sounds like you’ll need your coffee strong.”

“I think I do,” Ian smirked at her. “How’d you sleep?” He closed his laptop to give Elena his full attention.

“Fine,” Maura said with her back to him. She grabbed two coffee mugs and a to-go tumbler from her cupboards. After a beat or two, her nose twitched, and she smirked. “I told you that Jane is possessive. That is all I’m going to say about it to you.”

She finally turned to face him and they shared a private smile. “Do you make Jane coffee every morning? Or just the ones after she does _that?_ ” He asked, pointing to the travel mug on the kitchen island, still teasing.

She looked at him, a bit puzzled. “I never make her coffee. She would never let me,” Maura said. “I only get as far as picking the cup.”

Ian opened his eyes wide and nodded faux-seriously toward the woman bounding down the stairs. 

Maura chuckled. “She’d be the first to tell you,” she pointed to Jane. 

“Tell you what?” asked Jane, shoes on now, firing up the Keurig by the sink.

“Oh nothing,” Maura replied as Ian chuckled privately.

“I’m too late to interrogate, so you two are off the hook for now,” Jane moved through the kitchen to the fridge for something to eat. She grabbed a yogurt and then a banana from the counter as the Keurig roared to life. 

Maura took out a spoon and stuffed it into the inner pocket of Jane’s blazer. “Do not attempt to eat that while driving.”

Jane scowled. “How will you ever know?” Maura scowled back as the drip of Jane’s coffee pattered away into nothing. 

She tracked the flutter of Jane’s eyes to Elena and back, the baby beginning to fuss in Ian’s arms again. For the first time since Ian had arrived, Maura regretted his intrusion into their lives. She so badly wanted him to disappear so that Jane could say goodbye to her and Elena in private, in peace. She settled for walking over to Ian and taking her daughter back over to the foyer, where Jane stood, hands comically full of breakfast and keys. “Goodbye, and be safe,” Maura whispered, turning Elena on her hip so she could bear the brunt of what was coming: Jane wrapping her entire body around them. 

Jane just nodded in reply and kissed Maura with an open mouth and long, slow, strokes. _This is not part of the routine,_ thought Maura, but she went with it. It lasted one second, two, three, four, and then she broke it, for decorum’s sake. Jane gave her a knowing, sweet look, a close-lipped smile, and then kissed Elena loudly on the top of the head, several times. “We’re having tummy time when I get home, kid,” she said, as though giving orders, “you better be ready.” Then Jane looked back to Ian, who was suddenly very interested in his reopened laptop. 

“I’ll make sure she is,” Maura smiled, looking to her daughter and then back to her wife. “Love you.”

“Love you, too. Don’t get into too much trouble today please,” Jane said, facing the open living room rather than just Maura. Ian gave her a high thumbs up, didn’t look away from his work as she slammed the door shut.

* * *

Maura buckled Elena into her car seat in the back of the Q7 she had convinced Jane to buy - something about safety ratings. “You may sit up front,” she turned her head back to Ian, who smiled.

“You mean you don’t want to be my chauffeur?” He asked, going over to the driver’s side to open Maura’s door for her.

She nodded to him and smiled back, eyes narrow. “You and Jane can be eerily similar.”

“Pains in the ass?” He asked, his Australian accent coloring all the vowels in his question with good humor. He buckled his belt.

“That’s exactly right,” she replied. They pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the highway toward the medical supply warehouse in the South End. “Why are you back now?” Maura asked easily, the radio quiet between them, indiscernible. 

“It takes me about this long to lay low, move to the next place that needs basic supplies, embed myself enough to learn what exactly would benefit them the most,” Ian said easily, hand hanging off of the handle above his window. 

Maura took the answer in, took stock of her reaction. Her brain heard a good enough response, one she probably would have believed if she were still madly in love with him. Ian, for all of his gallantry and morals, his selfless service, was dangerous. He did and saw things that even Jane would shudder at. Had to, in order to be effective at his work. “Where were you this morning?” She didn’t look at him but focused on the road.

“At the kitchen table,” Ian answered. He shifted in his seat, looked out at the heavy Boston clouds. “Doing some digging on possibly providing data for a public health research group here.”

Maura scoffed. “If they ever found out what you do, all of their work would be invalidated.”

“Well the point would be for them, or anyone else for that matter, to never find out,” He looked at her then.

She shrugged, deciding to let the point go. “Fine. Last night then.”

“What?”

“Where were you in the middle of the night last night?” Maura pressed, leaning back in the driver’s seat and resting one elbow on the center console. 

Ian pondered for a moment, rubbed his left palm flat against the stubble on his jaw. “Well, I think I got up around 2 or 3? Jane was already up and in the kitchen. Feeding the baby, I’d presume.”

Maura cursed that Jane wasn’t there at the moment, being much better at interrogation than she was. “She came back to bed shortly after. I saw car lights leaving the house a little after three. Where did you go?”

“I don’t think we should be discussing this, Maura,” warned Ian. He folded his arms to signal his defense toward her. 

“You’re staying at my house, Ian. I should know when and where you’re coming and going,” Maura bit, both hands back gripping the steering wheel. They exited the highway and Maura began to weave them easily through side streets until they reached their destination. Maura saw it, passed it, and parked about three blocks away. She cut off the engine and turned to Ian.

“There’s just some information I can’t give you. To protect me and to protect you. If you need me to go to a hotel, I can do that,” he said.

Maura sighed and then took a deep breath in. “No, you can stay. Just, whatever it is, maybe you should tell Jane so she knows.” She brushed gingerly over their unspoken argument, the one about the illegal things he did involving very violent people. “There will be certain things, for the sake of her job, she just cannot abide.”

“Let me worry about those things. The less you know, the better,” he said, and exited the car. I’ll text you when I’m out back with the boxes. “I’ll tell Alex thanks again for letting us buy his surplus. What did you tell him it’s for?”

“I tell him that I use it for my work at my mother’s clinic. Which is partly true. The things that you don’t take, I use with our patients at MEND,” Maura said, holding Ian’s gaze as he stood in the car’s doorway. 

He nodded. “Sometimes we’re not so different, you and I.”

“Entirely too different when it counts,” she sighed, and he closed the door and walked away.

* * *

Frankie Rizzoli greeted his sister as she walked through the bullpen doors, a kiss for her cheek and a side hug. As soon as she moved to kiss him back, he pulled away. “The hell’s in your pocket, Janie?” 

“A banana, Frankie, Jesus,” Jane rolled her eyes and walked over to her desk. She threw her yogurt and banana on top of it. 

“Why didn’t you just have Ma make you breakfast downstairs?” He asked, taking the chair next to her. 

She peeled back the foil on her yogurt and patted her blazer for the spoon. When she found it, she scooped a heaping helping into her mouth. “Because I need as much sleep as I can scrounge up now, brother. I don’t have time to pop over to the cafe for a chat. I got minutes to spare when I walk in the door.

Frankie laughed at her muffled words. “It ain’t like it’s a four-course meal. Just pick up a breakfast sandwich.”

“Call me when you have a baby, a’right?” Jane glowered. She bit her banana and then put it down to punch her credentials into the computer. Frankie relaxed into his seat and straightened his tie. 

“Hopefully you won’t be hearing from me for a while, then,” he joked, eyes catching hers and giving her a wink.

Jane smirked back. Then her face turned serious. “So something crazy happened last night.”

Frankie leaned forward and looked around for listeners. “Hacknell case?” 

“No! At my place,” she whispered, harshly. “ _Ian_ dropped by.”

Frankie pulled back again, confused. “Who’s Ian?”

Jane blinked a few times. “What do you mean, who’s Ian? That doctor boyfriend Maura almost ran away with a few years ago? Ring a bell?”

“Oh shit,” Frankie said as realization arched over his face. “The British one?” 

“Australian, yeah. I walked in and he was playing Daddy with E on the couch,” Jane grumbled. She scrolled through her e-mail, double clicking on an attachment on the Hacknell case tox report. 

“What the hell?” Frankie barked, protection roaring into overdrive. 

“Apparently it was a surprise, just happened to show up when Maura was expecting me. Maura had to check on something so she gave Elena to him,” Jane leaned in and squinted at the pdf on her screen. 

“What was he even here for? Isn’t he a hot shot doctor in Africa or something?” Frankie asked.

“Yeah, he periodically comes to Boston to see Maura,” Jane said absentmindedly.

“Janie,” Frankie admonished her, slapping her arm. 

“Hey, not like that,” Jane replied, then thought better of it. “Actually, yeah like that. But also for her help getting supplies for his practice overseas,” she revised. “Nothing happened between them. But he stayed the night. Something weird about this report….”

“You let that guy sleep in your house? Quit lookin’ at the report for a second, Jesus,” he reached for the button on her monitor and put it to sleep.

“Hey, hey!” Jane turned back toward her brother and shouted.

“You ok?” he ignored her annoyance.

“I’m fine, Frankie. More than fine. He’s here to get some band-aids and then he’ll be outta my hair.”

“Not just band-aids. He know you’re married?”

“He does now,” Jane smirked, and went back to her banana. She used her hips to wheel her chair back and forth.

Frankie took the rest of her yogurt and finished it. “Well as long as you know there’s nothing going on there,” he shrugged. “Where’s Maura? Didn’t see her this morning.”

“You’re welcome,” Jane looked at him, pointing to her yogurt cup. “She took the day off.”

“That’s not like her.”

“They went to get him some surplus stuff at a med supply place in Southie,” said Jane. She winced when she heard how that sentence sounded out loud.

“You’re way more trusting than I am, sis. They’re alone together all day while you plug along here at work? You’re not even at least a little hot under the collar?”

“Not really,” Jane said. She shrugged as she turned her monitor back on, “I got assurances.”

“What assurances?”

“Well, a marriage certificate for one,” she hit print. “A baby, too,” she said as she got up to grab the pages from the Homicide copier.

Frankie nodded, held his hand out. “It’s not Maura that I don’t trust, is all I’m saying. Was he high out of his mind?” he asked as he pointed to the printer.

Jane handed him the papers. “Not sure. I don’t see any opioids listed.”

“The dope fiend is clean?” He scrunched his nose at her. “That’s not right.”

“Yeah, not really. Time to see if Susie’s free,” said Jane, and the two of them walked toward the elevator.

“You should call her,” Frankie whispered as they waited for the car to arrive. 

“Who? Susie?” Jane asked as she tapped the down button four, five, six times. 

“No, Maura,” Frankie said. 

“Frankie I just got here…” Jane looked at her watch, “twenty minutes ago. I’m not pulling that cro magnon shit, alright? She’s a grown-ass person.”

They stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the crime lab. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving it alone,” he raised up his hands. “This is me leaving it alone.”

“Thank you,” said Jane. “Once he skips town, things will settle back down.” The Rizzoli siblings marched into the crime lab to see Susie Chang at a microscope. 

“Good morning, Detectives,” Susie said without looking up, “Dr. Rizzoli texted saying to expect you. Hacknell case?”

Both Frankie and Jane nodded. “Morning, Susie,” said Jane. “Can you explain this report to us?” 

“Well,” Susie started. She walked over to their side of the counter. “There was something we originally missed. Mr. Hacknell was an epileptic, as you know.” 

“Yup,” Frankie agreed. “How is that relevant?”

“We were so concerned about ruling out an opioid overdose that we overlooked his epilepsy medication,” Susie opened her file and handed it to them.

“Phenobarbital?” Jane asked. “Phenobarbital overdose?”

“Looks like it,” Susie answered. “Just over the lethal amount. It’s a… slow, painful death.” 

“So, not a homicide?” Jane clicked her tongue, almost sad about it.

“That’s not for me to say, Detective. You’ll have to speak to Dr. Rizzoli,” Susie shrugged. “But there were pills still in his stomach. He may have had an opioid problem as well, but he would have known exactly how much epilepsy medication he needed to take each day.”

“Sounds like we need to head over to his apartment and find those pill bottles, little brother,” Jane tapped her wrist against Frankie’s chest. 

“Definitely does,” he agreed. “Thanks Susie.” 

Jane turned on her heels to lead them back up to the ground floor when her phone buzzed against her hip. She stopped. “Rizzoli.” She watched Frankie stiffen in her periphery. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Somethin’ else?” asked Frankie, waiting for her to explain.

“Yeah. JT Kelly is dead, at his condo,” She said, staring behind him, knocking the phone slightly against her chin in thought. 

“ _Dr._ JT Kelly? We’ve been looking at him for months,” Frankie whistled, “He’s written hundreds of prescriptions for xanax, percocet, oxy, all the good stuff.”

“Well, right now he’s a GSW to the chest off of Storrow and Randall,” Jane said. “C’mon, come with me. DCU should be there anyway.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice. I’ll let you drive, too,” joked Frankie. They shared a smirk and hopped on the elevator.

“You’re a riot,” snarked Jane. They jogged out the doors of BPD and to Jane’s unmarked.

* * *

“Dr. Rizzoli,” Maura answered her phone as she handed Ian boxes to carry up to his motel room. 

“Don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing that,” Ian winked at her as he grabbed some gauze and walked up the stairs to the open door above them.

Maura rolled her eyes, as she found herself doing more frequently with him around. “Yes, call CSRU and let them know I will be there as soon as I can. I’m about twenty minutes away.” Ian had come back to take the last few supplies as she finished.

“Does duty call?” He asked.

“It does,” Maura answered. “I could pass it to one of my AMEs, but Jane is up. It will be her case and she does not suffer less than perfect forensics.”

“No, I can’t imagine she does,” Ian shot back, giving her a wicked grin. “How is it not a conflict of interest for you two to work each other’s cases? You know, now that you’re involved.”

“Married,” Maura corrected. “We work for different departments. She is partnered with her Sergeant, who takes the lead on all cases for which I consult. We are nothing but professional.”

“Of course you are,” Ian acquiesced, “where do you have to go?”

“I will take you and Elena home first, I can circle back downtown,” Maura explained as she motioned for Ian to join her in the car. He got in, buckling up.

Maura closed the back hatch and opened the door right next to Elena’s car seat. “Mommy has to go to work now, alright sweetheart? I bet _Nanna_ will be thrilled to spend the day with you.” She rubbed a few fingertips against Elena’s tiny chest and giggled when the baby did. When she walked around the car to drive away, her phone rang again. She immediately recognized the picture on her caller ID. “Hi,” she answered softly.

Ian looked over at her in the driver’s seat, feeling suddenly hot at the realization that it was her intimate voice. “Should I step out?” he asked, his brow jokingly high, but he still sweated.

Maura shook her head no. “Yes, dispatch already called, Jane. I’m coming in. I just need to drop off Ian and Elena. I’m about to call your mother and make sure she’s at home. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

“Was Ma able to take Elena?” Jane asked Maura, who walked up to her and Frankie through the open front door of the condo. 

“Hello to you, too,” Maura replied. She motioned for Frankie to step away from JT Kelly’s slumped body.

“Sorry, Maura. Hello,” Jane blushed and kissed Maura on the cheek in greeting, with a hand on her elbow. 

“Yes, she was able. Today was actually her day off,” Maura accepted the gesture and then craned her head to look at the man lying on his side on the hardwood floor. “Bullet appears to have entered the axilla and exited the left chest, not the other way around.” She crouched to palpate the area around the wound in the back. 

“So shot in the back, like execution-style?” Frankie asked, taking notes on his notepad.

“I can’t say anything about style,” Maura’s voice drifted off, analyzing the blood near their shoes, humming at the sight of the exit wound. “I’ll know more later, but judging on entry and exit, whoever shot him was standing to his right.”

“Anything screaming motive to you?” Jane asked, smirking, looking down at Maura and folding her hands in front of her belt buckle.

“Aren’t you just _so_ funny,” Maura snarked. She ignored the question and crossed the body to kneel in front of Jane, back to her. “I would imagine you already have ideas about that.”

Jane knelt next to her. “This guy is a prominent doctor here downtown. He runs a pain clinic,” she said. She nodded slightly toward Frankie, as if the act alone would transmit all her theories and hunches and gut feelings to Maura.

Maura just blinked. “Who would want to kill a doctor who treats pain for a living?” She asked, curious but also a little incredulous.

“Let’s just say he’s been… _on my radar_ for a while. He’s usually got lines around the block for walk ins and appointments,” said Frankie.

“On DCU’s radar - oh,” Maura said as it finally clicked. “Why can’t the two of you just say that he’s been overprescribing opioids?”

“Think of us as your practice for the outside world, Death Whisperer,” Jane smirked, then softened her eyes. She leaned in, intending to kiss Maura, and Maura swerved forward to miss it.

“Ouch,” Jane griped, then smiled. “I guess I deserved that.” 

Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “Overprescribing is one thing. This guy was dealing. He also was known to sell large amounts of highly potent antibiotics through a pharmaceutical connection.”

Jane turned serious then. “Like how?”

Frankie shrugged. “Depended on the buyer. But mostly like a middleman. He gets a cut of the overall price for finding _customers._ ”

“Well, shit, little brother. That widens the pool of suspects considerably. Pretty clear he was shot for something to do with his practice. He’s gotta have a list or spreadsheet or something of buyers. We just gotta find it.”

“If we do, that gives me teeth in going after some of the other doctors in town,” Frankie nodded. “I’ll keep a look out for a computer or notepad or something.”

Jane waved him off, and looked to Maura, who stood again. “You feeling kind enough to guess time of death for me?” She said in a conspiratorial hush.

“Not particularly, Detective Rizzoli,” Maura responded. She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in a grin. 

“Not even if it means I get to come home early tonight, _Dr_. Rizzoli?” Jane stepped into Maura’s space and rubbed her thumbs over Maura’s forearms when the medical examiner touched her wrists to Jane’s chest.

“That _is_ pretty persuasive,” said Maura, cursing the purple gloves on her hands because they prevented her from running her fingers over the lapels of Jane’s blazer, “based on what I can see here, a rough guess would be between two and four hours ago.”

“What time is it? 10?” Jane stepped back and looked at her watch, “so between 6 and 8 AM?”

“Thereabouts, I would say,” Maura nodded. She waved down a CSRU agent and had him prepare the body for removal to the morgue. “Does that help you come home faster?” There was a glimmer of need in her eyes and Jane seized on it.

“I’ll do my damnedest. How was everything this morning with Ian?” 

“It was fine. Awkward,” Maura revised, wrinkling her nose.

“Awkward?” pushed Jane.

“I felt like, oh I don’t know, it’s stupid,” Maura waved the thought away.

Jane caught it and brought it back, teased it out. “You felt like what?”

“Like when people saw us, they thought they saw me and my husband with our baby. I didn’t enjoy it,” Maura shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Jane went pink and smiled. “You didn’t like people assuming he was your husband?”

“No, I didn’t. Because I don’t have a husband. I have you,” Maura said, as though it were the most obvious thing.

Jane supposed it was. “Yeah, your wife,” she added as they walked through the living room toward the hall to the bedroom where Frankie worked.

“Well, yes. My spouse,” Maura clarified, taking a few steps ahead.

“Yeah, Maura. A lady who is your spouse. Commonly known as a wife,” Jane raised her brow. 

Maura stopped and turned around. “When I look at you, I sort of see… a wife and a husband, all rolled into one,” she said brightly, blinking and shimmying. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Whispered Jane harshly as two uniforms passed them in the hall. 

“That you’re everything to me, all at once,” Maura said simply; Jane’s defensive posture crumbled at the statement and she slumped her shoulders. Maura took it as safe to continue. “You’re loving, demonstrative, protective, like a wife,” she said, “but handsome, and possessive, and you like to be in control. Like a husband. You defy gender, just for me. Hence _spouse_ ,” Maura finished with a finger in the air, close to Jane’s face.

Jane blushed again. “I guess I can accept that,” she growled, secretly very pleased. She stood a little taller and spread her stance out a little wider behind Maura when they entered JT Kelly’s bedroom. 

“Well, that’s good,” Maura chuckled. She turned her head to the side to whisper over her shoulder. “Ian left somewhere last night,” she said.

She felt Jane tense. “What? When? Where did he go?” Jane asked, loudly.

“Around three. I don’t know where he went. He refused to tell me. But he must have been back relatively quickly because I didn’t hear him come through either door,” Maura sensed Jane walking forward, so she stopped her feet to feel Jane push into her back. 

“That isn’t good,” Jane said, “But I’m going to shelve that for now so we can figure out what the hell went on here.”

Maura licked her lips with a nod.

“Got a prescription pad and macbook pro in the drawer of his nightstand. It was locked but the key was right under this stack of books,” Frankie said as he watched them walk in. 

“Excellent. Hopefully Technology can get us something to work with off of that,” Jane said.

“Hopefully,” Frankie repeated.

* * *

“Hey Jane!” Frankie bounded around the hall from DCU toward Jane, who headed to the elevators right outside Homicide.

“What’s up?” she asked, her heart rate responding to his shaky breath.

“Technology finally broke through,” He huffed. He held out a paper out to her, crumpled where he had fisted it in his hand, peppered with what looked to be names.

She snatched it, her eyes growing wild with the chase, “what is this?”

“A list,” Frankie breathed.

“A list?”

“A list of buyers. Or clients, or whatever. It was pretty encrypted, but Jackson cracked it,” Frankie said, “it’s just initials and last names, but-”

“But it’s a start,” finished Jane. “Great job, Frankie. Tell Jackson I owe her dinner,” she slapped Frankie’s arm and took the list back over to her desk. 

“Hell, I’ll split it with you and she can order the whole menu,” Frankie laughed. He sat down at the empty desk across from her and fired up the computer to sign in. “I take the second half of the list; you take the first?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jane, easy enough, “we’re looking for anybody that has any previous hits in the system. From there, we’ll use those to build out who showed up around him in the past week.”

“Got it,” said Frankie. They worked easily for another half hour or so, Frankie working from the top of his list down, and Jane working from the bottom of her list up. He perked up when his computer pinged. “I think I got something interesting.”

Jane’s head shot up. “Who?”

“Well, there’s a Michael Stern here, who’s been recently arrested for oxycodone possession without a prescription. Recently as in like four months ago. Just got out of prison,” Frankie said. 

Jane smirked. “That’s something. Put him on the list. Anything in Kelly’s calendar that seems like he was meeting with Stern?”

“I’m not seeing anything right now, but I just had them email me the last month,” her brother replied.

“Well, work from when Stern was arrested and see if Kelly has entries from back then. Once we have a list of enough people, we can subpoena for his pain clinic’s corresponding records,” said Jane. She held up her list again, hoping to find someone else they could look into.

When she reached the “F” names, her stomach dropped into her shoes. _I. Franklin._ One of Ian’s aliases.

“Shit,” Jane swallowed, so quiet that Frankie could not hear her. “Frankie,” she spoke up, “I just remembered something. I gotta go home.” She stood on shaky feet and snatched her blazer off of the back of her chair. Her face turned pale.

“You ok, Janie? Everything ok?” He stopped typing and stood, walking over to her. He went to put a hand on her bicep but she had already started walking away.

“I’m good, I’m ok. I just need to take care of something. Do me a favor and push on this Stern/Kelly connection, huh? Hard. Call me if you get anything,” Jane nearly whispered, jogging toward the elevator as her brother just nodded.

_Shit._

* * *

Tires screeched to a halt outside Maura’s home at 7 PM that evening, just before the _thwack_ of a slammed car door rattled the two front windows. Ian and Maura, sipping wine on the couch, snapped their heads toward the front door. Maura gripped Elena tight when it flew open.

Jane entered the house on a tear of wind, throwing the door behind her into submission. “Hey motherfucker,” she pointed to Ian, her body hurtling toward the couch.

Maura finally processed who it was that walked through the door, and she leapt into action. “Jane don’t,” she used one hand to support Elena on her hip and the other to push onto Jane’s clavicle. 

Jane stopped but did not acknowledge her wife. “How dare you? How dare you bring this shit in here, where my family sleeps,” her voice reverberated against the high walls and ceilings of the living room. 

Ian stood and backed away toward the table, inch by inch. “Jane, wait a minute-”

“Dr. Kelly? Huh? You bought from Dr. Kelly?” Jane continued to shout, attempting to move around Maura. Maura visibly paled when Jane spoke, but she stood firm. She turned to glare at Ian, waiting for him to explain.

“The people I work with need more than gauze, Jane. They need vital, life-saving drugs,” Ian stated calmly, hands up as though Jane held a gun to his head.

She thought about it. “He’s dead, Ian! Murdered! Someone shot him dead in his living room this morning,” she hollered, “and where were you?!”

Ian shook when he moved his hand over his face. He slumped on the table’s edge. “Jane, I didn’t-”

“Stop! The fact that you have even sneezed in his direction puts us,” Jane paused to swing her arm around and point to all four of them, “all of us, in a serious fucking situation. Don’t you fucking do research?! The most obvious dope doctor in all of downtown? Are you stupid?”

Maura turned around then. “You were involved with this man?” she asked Ian, sounding measured but looking dark. Hellish and angry. Elena began to cry against her mother.

“Only as a liaison, Maura,” Ian answered, grateful to not have to wither under Jane’s wrath even for a few moments, “he just put me into contact with someone else. For antibiotics.”

“Yeah, to the tune of 6000 bucks, asshole,” Jane burst back into their bubble, “I put my ass on the line letting you stay here, and I asked you not to do anything that would bring it into my house. I asked you that and the same night you went out and did the exact opposite. I could arrest you now.”

“I didn’t kill him, Jane! I have only ever talked to him on the phone!” Ian shouted. “He just tells me where to go!” 

“What I’m not hearing is where you were last night,” Jane’s voice turned heavy and hoarse when she watched Maura bounce Elena up and down, kissing and hushing her.

“Jane,” Ian began, shaking his head. “Just last night we said the less you know the better.”

“Last night you weren’t a suspect in my murder investigation, Ian,” said Jane. “So you better start talking, because right now Maura is literally the only thing standing between you and me and an interrogation room.”

Ian sighed and the breath rattled around in his thorax. He said nothing.

“Ian,” said Maura, “I would highly suggest that you do as she asks. Believe it or not, she is trying to protect you.”

“I went to see…” Ian paused, and shook his head. “I went to _pay_ a hefty sum of cash to a Renard Pharmaceuticals representative for antibiotics. Potent ones. Samples that he purposefully saved for me.”

Jane’s spine straightened and she scoffed. Maura didn’t move. She feared that if she did, Jane would do something truly terrifying. Instead, Jane closed her eyes to center herself, heaved out a boisterous sigh through her nose, and spoke the most measured words she had all evening. “Gimme a minute to speak to my wife. In private.”

Ian walked up the stairs and slammed his door without a second thought.

Maura slumped to the couch as soon as they were alone. Elena quieted, feeling her mother’s heart rate slide back down. “I take it he was on that computer Frankie found,” Maura said on a rush of air, not making eye contact with Jane.

Jane sat across from Maura on the coffee table. “What do I do, babe? What do you need from me?” she asked. She sniffed and Maura saw the sheen of wetness in her eyes. It was a vulnerable and shaky Jane that only she knew. The feminine gruff in Jane’s voice turned reedy with deference, and it made Maura feel strong. 

“I need you to keep your job, first and foremost, Jane,” Maura replied. 

“I could ruin him. I could run him into the ground and make sure he rots in prison for getting this close to risking all this for me,” said Jane on the rumble in her throat. “Or, I could buy him some time. If I thought he were telling the truth, I could maybe get 24 hours for him to get out of here. I will do what you ask.”

Maura felt war within her belly. The sudden need to watch Jane annihilate Ian was brief, but strong. When Elena sniffled and sighed against her, all that could have been raged against the back of her mind - herself in handcuffs, Jane raising Elena alone, Jane without a job, _Elena with one or no parents._ She straightened up and counted _10, 9, 8…_ It passed. “Those people, they need him, Jane. I…”

Jane dipped her head to meet Maura’s eyes, and when she did, she knitted her brow until it notched. “You want me to buy him some time?”

Maura shuddered at how easily Jane gave up vengeance to please her. “I… _want_ you to… do your detective thing. To him. But it would be the moral thing to give him time.”

“A’right,” Jane sighed. She got up and sat next to Maura. She patted Maura’s knee and then reached for the baby. “I’ll run Frankie in the other direction as long as I can. But he has to prove to me he didn’t do this, Maura. I won’t risk my ass or your ass for anything other than a proven fact.”

* * *

Jane jolted awake when she heard the _tap-tap-tap_ of a knock on her bedroom door. Her bleary eyes struggled with the soft blue numbers of the alarm clock on Maura’s nightstand, but she eventually made out the time, _1:48 AM._

Maura sat up with her, more from Jane’s unease than her own perception of the sound, and her voice was heavy with sleep. “It’s probably Ian,” she soothed. “Go back to sleep.”

Jane’s eyes adjusted in the dark quickly, a reflex from years spent living in her lizard brain. Her arms were taut over her knees, sheet creased at her bent hips, her skin exposed from the torso up. “What does he want?”

Maura was already up, throwing on her white satin nightgown and a matching robe. “I don’t know,” she answered, “but I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah right, Maura,” Jane said, and that was all that she said. However, a pleading gloss came over her eyes, one that Maura barely registered in the dark, as though Jane were asking her to let her handle the man on the other side of the door. 

“I’m taking care of it,” Maura said, sounding final. “Back to bed.” With that, she clicked the door open softly and closed it behind her. Ian stood with his laptop open, the light marring his jovial face, stretching it into something Maura realized she did not recognize. “What do you need?”

“I have Jane’s proof,” he said, curt and sharp. He handed her the laptop. It was a still from a security tape that showed him across the street from Renard Pharmaceuticals at 4:24 AM the previous morning. 

She scrunched her brow at the screen, but it was undeniably him. “How did you get this?” He was still dressed and Maura thought that in that moment they never looked more wrong for each other, he in jeans and a henley, boots tied tight and ready to take him anywhere he told his feet to go, she in a nearly sheer nightgown, askew from haste, hair mussed and skin warm with sleep. All of their experience, all of their history, all of their degrees combined could not bring them close.

“Don’t ask me that, Maura,” Ian said. “Just accept that I have it and let it be good enough. I was back in bed by 5:00. Look at your front camera. You’ll see me walking through the door.” 

Maura closed her eyes and took a deep inhale in. “This is the last time, Ian. This has to be the last time,” she whispered as she handed back his laptop. 

“Maura,” Ian choked out, suddenly pale and nervous, “Maura c’mon.”

“I’m not saying we can never see each other again. But I can’t help you anymore. I can’t harbor you,” Maura reached up on the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek. 

Ian opened his mouth to speak again, but Maura had already shut her bedroom door back on him. 

Jane opened her eyes as soon as Maura walked in, but stayed flat on her back when she saw the fat tear rolling down Maura’s cheek. The mattress dipped with Maura’s weight, and Jane did not turn to her. A few minutes passed, enough for Jane to not know whether or not Maura would hear what she said. “You’re like my husband, too,” her voice was so low that it shook when she finally addressed her wife.

“What?” Maura breathed back, the word itself wet.

“ _I’m taking care of it_ ,” said Jane in a mockery of a deep male voice, and when she didn’t hear a response: “protecting me.” Jane wiggled her leg and focused on her fingernails, looking intently at them instead of Maura’s face. “You’re everything to me, too, you know?”

Maura’s resulting sniffle was so cacophonous. She sat up and straddled Jane, lowering her whole body to collapse into the body below it. She shuddered in relief and release when Jane wrapped her arms around her, squeezing and saying nothing.

* * *

Frankie waved his sister into the bullpen as soon as he saw her get off the elevator. “Dunkin’? Man, rough night Janie?” he asked as he pointed to the giant iced coffee in Jane’s hand.

Jane rubbed the finger holding her key ring under her eye, fighting sleep. “Something like that,” she grumbled, and collapsed into her chair. “There a reason you pestering me at 8 sharp? Got good news for me?”

“Well, define good, right?” He said with a smirk. “But I found something major on Kelly’s calendar about six months ago.”

Jane’s stomach plummeted and she suddenly regretted the massive amounts of sugar in her body. “What?”

“Stern’s initials three times that month,” said Frankie as he brandished the print-out of the calendar. Sure enough, _MS_ was on the calendar every Wednesday. 

“That’s great, Frankie. That’s a start. Let’s get a subpoena for the office’s records,” Jane moved to the phone. She slammed the coffee onto a coaster that Maura purposefully “forgot” at Jane’s desk, twirled the phone cord around her finger as she sweet talked the judge on the other line. 

Frankie rocked on his heels as he waited. He surveyed Jane’s posture and how she sizzled with pent up energy on the chase. She was clearly bone-tired, run ragged by something, but ultimately potent. Clearly affected, but obviously victorious, whatever the battle may have been, may be. 

The battle raged from Dr. Kelly’s office all the way to Michael Stern’s apartment, where they wanted to pull him from for questioning. When Jane slammed the driver door so hard that Frankie felt it buzz against his teeth, he shook his head in equal parts annoyance and wonder. Stern had agreed to come freely, but Jane always began her interrogations as soon as she stepped into a suspect’s space.

Stern was no different - she saw him walking back into his house from his car, and so she immediately pulled into his driveway next to him. She had made sure to pull in as noisily as she reasonably could, and when she exited the vehicle, she had swung her leg out wide as she stood up so that she immediately rose into a low-slung stance, the emphasis on her firearm. She had kept her aviators on when addressing him so that he could not read her eyes.

“This your wife’s place, Mr. Stern?” she asked, a subtle dig with so many insulting layers that Frankie knew Stern would hate, “Sure is nice.”

Michael Stern couldn’t resist. “It’s my home,” he said, “who are you?”

“I’m Detective Jane Rizzoli and this is my colleague Detective Frank Rizzoli. We’re investigating a murder case involving Dr. JT Kelly and some allegations against him regarding drug sale and possession. You were a patient of his, right?”

Stern nearly collapsed for all the blood draining from his face. In that moment, Frankie knew that Jane knew that she had him. “I… I saw him once or twice,” Stern choked out, “but that was months ago.”

“Alright,” Jane said, shrugging her shoulders, her switch from vengeful to sweet enough to cause whiplash. “Would you mind coming down to the station with us? Answering a few questions? Just so we can get a clear idea of what exactly was going on with Dr. Kelly. It won’t take very long.”

The Rizzoli siblings saw that he contemplated running. But, when Jane matched his subtle sidestep completely, he swallowed and nodded to her.

“Great,” she replied, still dripping with honeywords. “You can come with us.” 

Frankie imagined that Stern would have confessed in the car on the way to the station had Jane so much as blown air in his direction, but he did quickly enough when she got him into Interrogation room 1. Of course he had been irate with Dr. Kelly, because Dr. Kelly had been the one to get him addicted to pills. That addiction forced him to buy heroin, which had been the reason he was arrested when he should have just gotten a speeding ticket.

Dr. Kelly ruined his life, Stern surmised, so he deserved to have his own life taken away. Stern was doing hundreds of patients favors by taking away their source of opioids, he reasoned. When Jane asked him why those people wouldn’t be just like him and turn to street drugs, he collapsed, his tears loud and wet. 

Jane, to her credit, did not gloat. Never gloated. She mastered looking almost sorry, without absolution of sins. She _understood._

* * *

When Jane heard the doorbell, she had barely had time to walk through the house herself. She groaned in delight when she licked the tomato sauce off of her thumb, satisfied with its heat and taste. She trotted over to the door and swung it open, relieved to see Maura standing there, exhausted but very much alive, hands full of a coat and her purse, too tired to rummage for her keys.

“This should be comical, but I only feel turned on,” Maura winked with a tired eye as she scrutinized Jane. Jane stood in front of her, dark and dangerous in her work suit and tall boots and windswept black hair. Jane also stood in front of her with Elena in a baby bjorn - her bouncing fat legs straight out in front of them - and pasta sauce streaked in a thin line on her cheek. Maura kissed Jane’s cheek, running her tongue over the sauce stain, humming with contentment when she pushed past her family and placed her things on the hall table. “Tastes wonderful.”

Jane had been stunned into silence before she could recover into a smile. She followed Maura to the kitchen island where she took stock of their nearly-ready meal. “Dinner ain’t fancy, but when has pasta ever failed us? Especially when we can just defrost the sauce. I ran a little late and Ma needed to go into work, hence the Kangaroo pouch.”

Maura chuckled and bent over, hands to her knees, to touch her nose to Elena’s. “Hi, baby,” she cooed, her pitch rising and tone softening, her heart swelling. “Hi, baby, hi, baby. Mommy missed you so.” she looked up at Jane, who smiled down at them with soft, glistening, dark eyes. Elena flapped her arms at Maura’s voice and rubbed her hands over Maura’s cheeks. Maura kissed each tiny palm and then stood up in her full height with heels. She touched a finger to Jane’s long, slender nose. “Mommy missed _you_ , too.”

“Long day?” asked Jane, in a perfect mirror of Maura’s question only days before.

Maura thought of the three autopsies she had done. She thought of her hour-long conversation with the governor, she thought of the new intern who started today and needed her guiding hand through everything. She could have responded with the story of any of these challenges. “Ian left today,” she said instead, because it felt most true to her tiredness.

Jane’s face faltered into anger for a moment, but then the corners of her mouth softened. “I’m sorry, honey. At least he wasn’t our murderer.”

Maura shook her head, suddenly not so sad about him. “I told him he couldn’t come back. That we could see each other but that we wouldn’t let him stay here anymore. I wouldn’t help him anymore.”

Jane’s blood ran hot with the desire to possess. “Even though those people need him?” She whispered hoarsely. Her arms laid flat at her side, so desperate to reach out, but needing to hear all of what Maura had to say.

“I don’t need him anymore. I need you. I need you.” Maura drummed her fingers on the island, reading Jane’s eyes as best she could.

Jane closed them in a shit-eating grin. “No more standing dick appointment?” she asked. “Ow!” she yelped at the ensuing punch to her arm. 

Maura pursed her lips, but her irises were alit with humor. “Not with him anyway.”

“Maura!” Jane whined, the baby against her fussing as she stamped her foot.

“Turnabout is fair play,” said Maura. She walked over to the stove and held the wooden sauce spoon to her lips for a better taste. “This really is delicious. Your mother knows what she’s doing.” She grinned wickedly at the way Jane soured behind her. 

“Maura,” tried Jane again, this time her wife’s name taking on the hoarse nuance of need and pride. 

Maura stepped away from the food and hugged Jane from behind, her arms between Jane’s ribs and Elena’s back. “My only standing appointment is with you.” Jane stiffened, and then turned supple in Maura’s grip. 

“He’s a dumbass,” Jane said as the pasta boiled on in the background, forgotten. “But I can’t say I’m sad that he fucked up his numerous chances with you.”

Maura squeezed the body in front of hers one, two, three final times. “He was practice for you, Jane. Just practice.”


End file.
